In praise of Terry Pratchett

I first came across The Colour of Magic some time in 1984 I think, when it was recommended to me by a friend at school. I was immediately hooked and since then I think I’ve read all the Discworld books (and Nation, the Long Earth series and assorted others) pretty much as they were published. Some I’ve read several times over. I was deeply saddened when Death made his final house call.

Since just before Christmas 2016 I have re-read all of the Discworld novels, including the Tiffany Aching “young adults” (whatever that means) ones, finishing The Shepherd’s Crown today. Reading them almost back-to-back (I’ve spent some time reading up on swimming coaching too) has brought to light many things I missed first time around. The consistency of so many themes and ideas across the entire series is breathtaking, whether they’re on a grand scale or even tiny references and throw-away one-liners (one such that made me laugh for instance was a single mention of Rob Anybody learning to read “Where’s My Cow?”).

I think it’s easy for people to write off fiction written with an element of humour as something trivial and of limited value, but there’s so much more to his books than that. It’s an astonishing body of work and I hope it lives on well after those of us who were here to read the books when he was still alive find our own lifetimers running low.

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